


Our Holiday Chain

by Teal_Rainbeau



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 2 characters caroling, Angst and Feels, Apathetic Keith (Voltron), Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Flashbacks, Grieving Shiro (Voltron), Happy Ending, Holidays, Hopeless Pidge (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, One Shot, Optimistic Hunk (Voltron), Original paladins - Freeform, POV Canon Character, Shadam/Adashi flashback, Shiro & Hunk Friendship, Slight Canon Divergence, Snowball Fight, Supportive Coran (Voltron), VLD Christmas, Weary Lance (Voltron), childhood flashbacks, mini chapters, pre-Season 8, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teal_Rainbeau/pseuds/Teal_Rainbeau
Summary: (This is formatted to be read comfortably either chapter to chapter, or through the "entire work" option)Despite a difficult year upholding their destiny as Paladins by defending Earth and Space, Hunk feels like the Holidays are worth celebrating. Unfortunately, the rest of the Paladins are not into it for their own respective reasons.After inspiration from a flashback and Coran's suggestion of diplomacy, Hunk starts with talking to the Black Paladin, and it pays forward from there.(I thought of the original 5 Paladins in this one, with Shiro being the Black Paladin. A Freudian slip I didn't notice until a week after the story was completed 😅)





	1. Hunk

**Author's Note:**

> Got inspired to write this while walking around my neighborhood. So a dozen of holiday playlists/albums and nearly 7000+ words later, here's what I cooked together. Happy Holidays!
> 
> Note: This is set some time after the Paladins are released from the hospital at the end of Season 7)

“According to your Earth calendar, when does the celebration begin?” Allura asked.

“Tomorrow.” Commander Iverson answered quickly, returning to his paperwork.

“And where has everyone else ran off to?” Coran wondered.

“Cadets and officers are home for the holiday season with their families.” Iverson responded again.

Though the Paladins of Voltron were on medical leave indefinitely, none of them could officially go home just yet. Their families were kept nearby in provisional living arrangements.

But the holiday spirit was noticeably lacking among them. Hunk brought up the day with the rest of the team, and would receive indifference at best, glimmers of melancholy at worst. Shiro simply “remembered” a rushed emergency seminar last time Hunk mentioned a Christmas tree and scooted off into the briefing room. Keith simply said he didn’t know what he was going to do on that day, in a rather lackluster tone even for him. Lance, who would have gushed at the opportunity to think, see, and do in hues of red and green, tossed him a weak smile and excused himself to go sleep. Pidge didn’t even remember what the calendar day was, instead grumpily expressed not looking forward to having her heater up full blast with her feet sticking out of her blanket. 

His voice trailed off. I don’t think anyone’s feeling it this year. We just got back to our families, and let’s not forget we were released from the hospital some 1-2 weeks after being admitted. So, I completely understand they’d want to just take a breather.”

“Right.” Coran responded sadly, then scratched his head, Hunk noticed Coran’s fallen gaze shifting to a more inspired gleam. “But what about the prophecy of the 12 days of Christmas?”

The question hatched a confused frown on Hunk’s face. _Prophecy._ After wising up seconds later, he chuckled into his hands.

“Please forgive me, Coran. Are you talking about the Christmas carol?”

“A _carol?”_ Allura echoed innocently.

“Yeah, holiday-themed songs about spreading good cheer, being kind to all, and being thankful for what you have.” The yellow Paladin smiled

“What do you say about using your powers of diplomacy to spread the good cheer? He turned serious, “You know, dear boy. Sharing customs, traditions, doesn’t have to be self-serving. You’re just the right person for the job.”

There was something to what Coran was saying, and it reminded him of a visitor his family had back home six years ago today.

~~~~~

_“What are you making this time?” Hunk asked his mom, out of genuine curiosity._

_“Rhubarb pie. You know, that stuff you mistook for celery.”_

_“Ohh! Your famous strawberry rhubarb pie? Can I pick the strawberries out?_

_“That was exactly the job I was going to give you. Go ahead and take those out of the fridge.” She picked them from the farmer’s market the other day. Not quite as glossy as the ones from the supermarket, but much more fragrant and earthy. They were about the size of the circumference between Hunk’s thumb and finger. Only the biggest, plumpest berries would make the cut._

_This was not for the family, although she saved one pie just for them. Instead, there was a new woman who has moved back home with 3 of her own young children (all under the age of six), and supposedly lost her husband in a car crash. They were only four houses down from the Garretts. She was pretty young, Hunk remembered. Maybe twice as old as his own 12 years._

_When she came over for the first time, Hunk was fixated on her vibrancy despite her little ones attached to her like koalas to a tree. Skin glowing in a deep bronze, medium-length brown and black Ombre curls secured with a floral scarf, and her long, lean body clothed in an over-sized sweater and skinny jeans with black boots. He never remembered her ever speaking with a frown or a sour face. What was most fascinating was her inability to speak in a volume beyond a whisper._

_“I damaged my vocals in the accident,” she explained to the family, lips pursed in stifled sadness._

_Calliope was her name. And her own 5-year-old revealed that she never ate much until she started eating Mrs. Garrett’s cooking._

_After dinner, they played “Telephone” in their back yard with his little niece and her children. The objective was for the first person to begin with the message, and for the next person to whisper the same message to the next person, and so on until the last person standing revealed what the beginning message was._

_According to what he heard from the last child participating, Hunk revealed it as “Your Mom is God”._

_The children were in stitches, rolling around in the grass as Calliope shook her head, whispering “The pie was good.”_

_“Oh. I’ll let her know.” Hunk laughed with a blush on his face._

~~~~~

“You’re right, Coran” he smiled with a renewed sense of spirit. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Coran expelled a hitched gasp as Hunk wrapped his big arms around him with pressure. Hunk smiled sheepishly and released his grip.

How to get the Paladins on board…something in his gut said to start with Shiro first.


	2. Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finds peace in weakness thanks to Hunk

_Adam loved to do all the work in the kitchen. Mixing, spreading, sprinkling. It was the one precious time out of their vacation that the man appeared to thrive in a non-linear rhythm. It brought Shiro’s pulse to a quiet settle, and his heart to a satisfying simmer._

_“Why are you mixing so little?” he asked, exasperated._

_“Because it’s only going to be you and me, silly.”_

_Shiro scooped a pinky finger into the bowl separate from the one he was mixing with. Adam slapped him with said spoon. “What?! I was just taste testing!”_

_“I already did that, Takashi!” Adam wailed._

_“Well, I’m offering a very unbiased view that…” Even behind his thick-rimmed glasses, he flinched at Adam’s eyes challenging him, as if daring him to say something wrong. Shiro swallowed with an honest grin “It’s soooo good and I want some more!”_

_Adam snatched the bowl away and put it in the refrigerator after wrapping it. “After I’ve frosted them, okay? Can I trust you to wait that long?”_

_“Yes, Commander!” Shiro saluted, which made the other man him break down into giggles._

_“What am I going to do with you, Takashi?” He removed his glasses, amber eyes lovingly gazing into Shiro’s._

_“I’m not sure, you might have to continue loving me.”_

_~~~~~_

Hunk made his way into the kitchen, immediately going to the refrigerator to gather ingredients for tonight’s dessert. He didn’t even bother to turn the lights on or open windows yet. While humming Jingle Bells, he pulled out eggs and milk from the fridge, then slid over to the pantry for something else…

“Can’t wait to see the final result.”

A loud yelp erupted from his frozen frame as he fumbled with the small bottle. Shiro couldn’t see his face clearly, but he was sure that this big boy was still freaking out with his hand over his chest, “Shiro! I-I. Okay, you’re hanging out, in the dark?”

Shiro’s eyes were dimmed, gaze looking down at the countertop where he was sitting. “I really thought you could see me brooding here, otherwise I would have...”

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured softly. “At least _you_ wouldn’t try to give me a heart attack on purpose.”

“Who tried?” He paused and shook his head, smiling. “Never mind.” Because who else beside a certain blue paladin would ever do that to Hunk?

“Tough day?” Lights were on now, courtesy of Hunk.

“Just feeling like the ghost of Christmas Past lately. You would think that dying, getting reincarnated, and then nearly dying again would afford a guy some time to rest in peace.” He could feel Hunk’s pity striking into his veins, and it made him cringe on the inside. The poor guy never quite understood his parched sense of humor. “Please don’t mind me.”

“Well, I’m getting ready to make my Mom’s famous Gingerbread cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, so you’re welcome to stay.” Hunk smiled while cracking open eggs and mixing sugar in a bowl.

“Alright, sounds good.”

It took about 45 minutes for the entire recipe to come together. Sometime in the middle of that process, Hunk asked for a taste test, worried that the consistency would not come out correctly. He offered Shiro a spoon with the frosting caked on in a heap.

“This is a lot of frosting, you sure you’ll have enough for the cupcakes?”

“Hunk smiled, “Oh, I always make extra on purpose, just in case someone wants to frost cookies or something. Definitely more than enough for a dozen cupcakes. The boy peered at Shiro in anticipation as Shiro took the spoon from him and brought it to his own mouth. Shiro’s breath caught in his throat, forming the most uncomfortable lump.

“Well?”

“It’s good.” He choked. This small moment unearthed memories of so many ghosts from the war that he still wasn’t ready to acknowledge out loud. And of Adam, when life was more stable, and Kerberos did not stand between them. Fate couldn’t even permit them to say goodbye. When Hunk turned his back, he used his knuckle to blot a tear from his eye. He could stand pain. Kindness on the other hand, was a sweet pain that he wished wasn’t so easy for him to absorb at times. More emotions rose as a wave and ambushed him to the counter, bringing him to violent sobs on the cold surface.

“Shi-” 

He could feel Hunk’s heavy hand settling on his shoulder with a comforting weight, and he secured it with his artificial hand. With an abrasive swipe, he used his left hand to wipe away the cascade of tears from his overheated face. “Please…forgive…me…”

But Hunk was looking into his wet eyes, not a trace of judgement staining his gaze. And being around this kind hearted Yellow Paladin was disarming to an uncomfortable degree. “Shiro, you have always put your best foot, and face, forward. All while being just as human as any…I mean most, of us. Don’t think for a second that you are anything less than that, because you have shown us what it is to experience true loss.” He then straightened, “And you’ve literally lived and died to tell about it, with your own dignity! It’s only natural to break down, that way you can build yourself back up, without the false pretense!

“Thank you, Hunk.” Shiro sighed, chest still heaving. At least his body was no longer trembling uncontrollably.

“Shiro, thank _you_ **.”** Hunk raise up and gave him a military salute.


	3. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith remembers his spirit

_Keith remembered the last Christmas Eve with his pops before he died. He would be at home decorating the home within the confines of his 8-year-old imagination: pine cones from the national forest strewn on several shelves, Christmas cards hanging from a blanket strewn on the back of the door, aerosol “snow” streamed through every window in the house, including the bathroom. Go nuts, his father would say every single year, and that’s just the way he liked it._

_Despite the promising overcast, Keith was a child that appreciated snow, but didn’t really “need” a Winter Wonderland like his classmates did._

_He continued to skip upstairs, humming the holiday tunes streaming on the device from the fireplace panel. Speaking of which, his nose was starting to freeze, time to get that wood from outside before something happened to it._

_It was too bad he didn’t know his mother; she would once again have been welcomed here to help, to elate herself in this holiday cheer with her family. But that wasn’t going to happen, he thought as he picked up a broom and started towards the front porch. Still overcast, but clouds were thickening to a frightening charcoal gray. He sighed._

_“Keith!”_

_His eyes widened at the sight of his father’s truck pulling up to the gate. It definitely wasn’t time for him to come home from work yet. But the man was standing there looking happier than he’s looked in a week and waving for Keith._

_“Drop that broom, get your shoes and jacket, and let’s go!”_

_Keith did exactly that in record time and they were off to a neighborhood that was somewhat less isolated compared to their own hundred acres of land. Houses were lined in a grid, spaced apart only by each other’s lawns, yet still maintained a rural aesthetic with their own respective pieces of dirt land, some with horses and other farm animals. He marveled at the annual sight of Christmas lights strewn throughout the streets, some with Christmas-themed wood cutouts in the front yards._

_“Hope you got your singing voice ready.” His father smiled warmly, then looked at him with worry lining his brow, “Now you didn’t forget, did you, boy?”_

_“No, sir.” No matter how busy things were this time of year, the man would drop every obligation known to man to make time for charity._

_They went house to house, other firemen from his father’s team joining him, making a team of about 8. “Jingle Bells”, “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”, and other classics rotated from house to house, so that no song was similar for any two households to listen to. The old man always sung beautifully and none of his blessed residents were complaining. One woman even gave Keith a red jacket as a Christmas gift, complimenting that he too had a pretty singing voice, and that “the girls would be sure to notice someday”. He formed his lips into a courteous smile as he thanked her for the gift._

_His father patted him on the back and ruffled his hair. “He got his father’s singing chops, that’s why.” He added with a warm chuckle._

_~~~~~_

The memory was warm, much more than this so-called final resting place, where now Keith found himself placing a decent looking Poinsettia at his father’s grave marker. He noticed each gravestone littered with wreathes and some draped in those strings of lights. But the anger that would bubble to the surface replaced itself through the years with a deep fog of indifference, which was better than the latter. Too bad you couldn’t tamper with fate.

“Not the same as we get older, is it?”

Keith turned around to see Shiro waking towards him with his red hovercraft parked, still in his uniform. Between Garrison meetings and reconstruction, it has been challenging for them to meet like they used to.

They hugged, and something about the older man’s grip was more intense despite the peace that hung around them. An intense sensation of warmth, with the transference of peace emanated from his chest as Keith hugged him back. “You okay?”

“Had an emotional breakdown over Hunk’s cupcakes earlier, but I feel much better now.’ Keith worried that there was much more to _that_ story, and knowing Shiro, was probably not going to hear about it. “The frosting was _that_ good” There was his signature dry humor that Keith appreciated.

“Maybe I’ll have one later.” He didn’t know if he meant that, considering that sweets were lately _not_ his favorite thing. Neither was humming to himself out loud or singing with feeling. His face grew solemn, “Just remembering when Dad and I would go caroling through the nearest neighborhood.” His breath fell as he began to open up, “I miss all of it. It really _isn’t_ the same now that I’m an adult.” He didn’t bear mind to decorations or any of the festive stuff because there was no _connection_ to it. Just a weathered heart that was so close to becoming closed off again.

Keith’s sense of smell recognized the atmospheric scent of water, but with a different composition, one that smelled just like...As he looked up, slow white particles were falling from the sky, and one marked his cheek impeccably. More followed, until minutes later there was an entire wave of them dropping and settling into his hair and jacket. “Where have _you_ been?” he whispered softly.

“Bet _he’s_ the one that sent it this year. He didn’t want you to forget.”

Shiro’s words stung his heart sweetly. He was right. As long as he didn’t forget, maybe there was still something to warm his heart. Shaky sighs escaped from his throat, accompanied by the pressure in his eyelids from involuntarily staring upward.

“I said I wouldn’t cry.” He murmured. But happiness was sneaky in that way.

“Is this a good time then to say that I want you to have the hover craft?” Shiro asked matter-of-factly. Keith stared at him, mouth opened in surprise.

“You!” he playfully punched his chest and gave him another hug with the most understated, yet grateful laugh, still unsuccessfully stifling a sob.

“And a Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done, and continue to do.”

“Keith, _please_. You’re my family, and I love you.”


	4. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's not dishonorable to celebrate, Lance learns.

_Lance was a firecracker, just the way his family appreciated. He was born in July, which gave his energy a radical wave of inspiration and happiness to those who were open enough to receive it. During festivals, he was the first one out the door, on a natural high. He celebrated other’s birthdays with more zeal than his own birthday._

_Strangely, he wanted to contain said energy at times during the winter holidays, when the curtain of warmth in the atmosphere would seldom open itself to an indiscernible chill on the beaches of Varadero. 10-year-old Lance loved to daydream in response to this seasonal change. He imagined a different world this Christmas, one that was glimmering with possibilities of a classic Christmas, just like the pristine images that he would see on “It’s a Wonderful Life”, or the charming “Frosty the Snowman”. There would never be a snowstorm or any kind of snowflake drizzling from the skies, ever. Cuba as a country was forever summer land, except for a few overcast days from rain._

_So, instead, he would opt for gathering water in his bucket from Varadero’s ocean waves. Oldest sister Veronica, twin Rachal, and older brother Marco would all join in the process, spending a good 10 minutes mixing the water and sand, mushing it together just enough to make a sandman instead. Just like their snowy counterpart, complete with a floppy hat, delicate flower studs, knitted scarf, and a carrot._

_“Guys, I wanna take lots of pictures of this!” Lance exclaimed._

_“Hey, we did some of the work, too, so she’ll have to share the spotlight.” Veronica smirked._

_“Hey, just because it’s wearing earrings and a hat doesn’t mean it can’t be a boy.” He shot back with a pout._

_“Whatever!” Rachael yelled with her hands on her hips. “Just get it over with!”_

_“Don’t be jealous ‘cuz he looks better in your earrings than you do!” Lance poked out his neck mockingly._

_The oldest sibling, Luis laughed at the trio, and at Lance who was taking this way too seriously. But Lance didn’t care. He had a vision, and he was going to make it work! So he handed Luis his phone and instructed him to take their picture. With Lance in the middle, the girls on either side, and Marco standing behind Lance, they posed with smiles and excited demeanors fitting of any Christmas card._

_Later that evening, while everyone was downstairs enjoying the festivities, he would be busy at work. He swiped his phone and scrutinized each picture carefully to make sure that the sun’s rays weren’t washing their vibrant colors out. With his photo editing app, he began erasing the sandman’s brown grainy texture into something resembling winter fluff. Good thing the picture was facing away from the water, because editing waves would have been so tricky to do. Around them, sand disappeared into a layer of snow, but the houses all remained untouched. It took him 2 involving hours for his masterpiece to come together, but time melted away with classic playlist favorites like “Let it Snow” and “Up on the Chimney.” Once he finished, he found the “share” button, typed a quick message to go with the picture, and sent._

_“Oh, my God, Mama! Look what Lance did!” The mixture of tongue clicks, laughter, and awe-inspired sounds of surprise were a symphony to his ears._

_~~~~~_

He still kept that original, unedited picture. Something to reminisce about when space was too much of a vacuum, or when the Garrison walls provided nothing more than unbending structure. There was also the edited version, which made him snicker at his poor 10-year-old self for not knowing any better than to be thankful for his home.

It seemed fitting half an hour ago that he would have had to been on foot in a city a few miles from the Garrison to get a proper feel for snow. An endless supply of slush made each footstep feel like a fruitless crawl. Lance remembered large tatters of what once were buildings, dull colored cars with wheels blown out, a melancholy array of debris scattered throughout parking lots. It was a shame that such beautiful weather was concealing such a tragic backdrop.

Despite aid from those in the Voltron coalition, there was still so much rebuilding to do. He should have been much more thankful that there were those that believed in them, but the best he could do was acknowledge their benevolent deeds with his lips. He went to try mingling with these members of the Coalition, but they were gone, taking cover from the imminent heavy snowfall.

After peering at the eclectic mix of extraterrestrial booths, he suddenly missed the panorama of healthy trees lining streets, or _something_ that was still a little more…earthly. As if answering his silent request, more winter confetti began to fall from the clouds while the winds kicked up in intensity. What was he thinking going for a walk on the cusp of a supposed snowstorm? Oh, yeah, the confines of the Garrison were making him a little stir-crazy! And he was adventurous that way.

This was a bad idea. And his first time ever, in life, of being caught in an actual impending blizzard.

“Lance!”

He recognized the lightning quick hum of the red Hovercraft and turned to see Keith motioning for him to hop on. What a relief that he wouldn’t have to trek in this stuff for 30 minutes or so.

A mere 5 minutes later, Lance rushed back inside the safe walls of the Garrison, allowing Keith to come in before shutting them both inside. By then snow whipped and whirled and cut at the trees and windows. The sight of the frenzy was intimidating to Lance, but Keith was straight faced and calm, as usual. Clearly used to giant snowstorms like this one.

“Where did you come from?” Lance inquired, gritting his teeth with a rumble in his throat.

“Cemetery.”

That’s right, to visit his father. Speaking of death, how well prepared were Voltron’s visitors from the storm? Lance worried dreadfully.

“You think they all made proper provision?” Lance mentioned suddenly.

“Who?”

“Our comrades, I mean, they’ll turn into popsicles, especially the Olkari!”

“I’m sure they’ll adapt, Lance.” Tenderness seeped from Keith’s voice. “If anything, they prepared in advance.”

While they walked towards the main parlor area together, Lance attempted to alleviate the silence with a more happy-go-lucky strait. Keith’s maintained his sights straight ahead, eyes averted from Lance. They both spotted a fireplace that was brimming with warmth and probably just started burning. The two boys took place in the two chairs in front, with Lance blowing air and folding his hands in a prayer. 

“Uggh! Blizzards are NOT as fun as they look in the paintings!” Lance moaned.

“Keith hummed in response, relaxing with legs crossed and both arms resting on either chair arm.

“Thanks for the ride, buddy!”

“Your welcome.” Keith’s voice was sprinkled with concern. “Different from rain?”

“Yep.” Lance allowed the fire to enthrall him, not wanting to move an inch from this beautiful creature dancing on the logs.

Silence blanketed the space between them for a few ticks, maybe longer. Lance began to sing:

_“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, since we’ve no place to go, let us know, let us know, let us know”_

After the 4th line, Keith sat up with both legs on the floor and raised an eyebrow with gentle scrutiny glowing in his narrowed eyes. “Sing that last part again.”

“What? _Let us know_?” Lance repeated, not knowing why Keith was being critical.

Keith huffed out something akin to a cross between laughter and a scoff. “It’s _let it snow,_ not _let us know!”_

Lance had been singing that wrong for years, _surprise_. But genuinely surprising was that no one _ever_ had ears sensitive enough to catch his mistake. Instead of spewing out annoyance at Keith, he just decided not to sing anymore.

“You don’t have to stop singing.”

“I’m really just not in the mood anymore.” Like a petulant child, he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a foot tucked underneath. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you. Can we start over?”

Lance sighed, “It’s not you, man. He untucked his leg and turned to face Keith. “Kinda makes it hard to get in the Christmas Spirit, when we’re preparing for a war that doesn’t seem to be letting up in the long run. “Guess I’m just trying to put everything into its proper place, to conserve my strength.”

Those booths in that plaza drove a new realization home: he matured during this time as the Blue Paladin. Had seen once vibrant organisms lose their lives to the Galra, witnessed those getting their hearts broken through uprooting or betrayal. How trivial would it have been to hang up lights or to gather stockings, or to knit scarves for friends and family again. He was becoming a man that understood when jovial pursuits had a time and a place. Post war was _not_ one of those times. It flooded his heart with a tiresome remorse.

“I understand.” Lance could tell from the heavy exhale that communicating feelings was still half-charted territory for the man. Yet, his warm eyes and sad, downturned lips did nothing to conceal his compassion. He sighed and continued “Not long ago I felt so…numb. But I remember from caroling with my Dad just how important it is to do this. It’s so much more than traditions and presents or even decorations; for some people, it’s the only way to restore their spirits. So many of them have had hardships of their own that they may not share with others…”

“Keith...” In some strange way, his words brought nourishment to Lance’s heart and for the first time in weeks, his smile returned in spades. “Thanks man.”

“My pleasure.” A smile was spreading on Keith’s lips.

Lance continued to look at him fondly, then gave in to the old habit of playfully pushing his buttons. “So. Exactly how well _do_ you sing, Mr. Carol’s-in-the-night?

“I was a child!” Keith looked away, arms tightly folded against his chest. “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.”

“Voices mature, you know that, right?” he asserted with sass, then looked across at him anxiously, “You think _I_ sound good enough for caroling?”

“Just make sure you have the words right. _”_ Keith teased.

Lance started singing “Let it Snow” again, this time with the _correct lyrics_ at the end of the first verse, and a little more zeal. He then passed an imaginary microphone to an off-guard Keith. Keith softened and shyly took over the 2nd verse, then got somewhat more enthusiastic as they both serenaded despite _possibly_ being within an earshot of others. Keith's sound was pleasant and slightly raspy, like an alternative rock singer. 

They ended their sing-along chuckling wholeheartedly. Then, with Keith’s melody and Lance’s harmony, they finished with a rendition of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" (per Keith’s request).


	5. Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge starts to feel like a kid again.

This was so stupid! After many revisions of the Christmas list, Pidge concluded that going shopping at this point was not going to work. After all, lots of people weren’t even celebrating anyway.

She crumpled the paper and tossed it somewhere in the family of the other junk that was beginning to accumulate near the wastebasket.

“Would you guys be willing to do me a favor, and just be a Christmas gift to the many friends and family on my list?” Pidge asked, more out of desperation. The multicolored space bugs floated together and surrounded her, as if saying _no, we love you_.

“Oh, come on. We all know it wasn’t a permanent plan!” She smiled. After all, what would they be celebrating this year that they couldn’t year-round? Life, liberty, the pursuit of the Galra’s end? _Unless Santa Claus existed for real on some other planet. That might actually be awesome…_

As she exhaled, realizations of everything she had to be thankful for trickled into her mind. Voltron’s victory, her family’s safe reunion, new friendships, being back home. Christmas should have been a fifth on the list, hands down. Except it was no longer something she felt like celebrating.

~~~~~

_Every Christmas morning, her mother would be in the kitchen, ingredients strewn out on the counter, flour stains smeared on the cabinets. But days after the announcement of the Kerberos disaster, Pidge found her leaning over the kitchen counter at 6 in the morning. Just a lone can of tomato sauce, with an unopened bag of Calrose rice. Tears were streaming down her face._

_“Mom…”_

_“Katie, why are you up so early?”_

_“I’m gonna ask you the same question.” There was usually a trail of sunlight streaming through the windows of their 2-story house, but the December climate decided to bring a bit of California rainfall instead. 3 inches of it, to be precise._

_“Mom, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Dad and Matt-“_

_“Would want us in their prayers, not putting our lives on hold.” In the middle of her stupor, she stood up straight and wore a smile with a determined frown. “Go and gather all the ingredients for our Christmas dinner, then we can open some presents.”_

_“Yes, Ma’am!” Pidge’s cooperation was reluctant. But she understood._

**_Samuel and Matthew Holt, Takashi Shirogane_ ** _. Since that unfathomable day on the news, she pushed and prodded to find more about the story, and why they were just classified as “missing”. When the holidays were over, she would be back at the Garrison, getting to the root…_

_After presents were opened and all wrapping paper was discarded, Katie cradled the new telescope in her arms that Matt gifted her. Her fingers warmed over it, as if communicating with Matt telepathically._

_“If you and Dad are alive, please tell me something”._

_She usually shook her head at those who put their faiths in superstitions or something unseen. ESP, 6 th sense, anything might have been awesome at this point, however. It felt impossible for her to calculate the probability that permanent tragedy hadn’t befallen the two men in her life. _

_“When you put those presents away, join me in the kitchen so we can get started.”_

_“Sure thing.” She uttered, attempting to exhale the overwhelming sadness from her chest. The contemporary Christmas hits playing from the kitchen sealed the vacuum of depression shut, for now._

_That night, she looked for Kerboros in the sky absent mindedly, knowing full well that the satellite’s was much too faint for the naked eye to see. Thanks to the rainfall, there was no way she could spot Pluto. The gold and silver telescope remained in its new location, replacing the old gray one._

~~~~~

Pidge was now back on the hangout, somewhere on the roof of the Garrison, wrapped in a blanket because of course there was a thick sheet of snow pressed against the landscape this time of year. The blanket had a USB device that plugged into her laptop and generated heat from its power supply.

The website had an array of specialty items, all courtesy of an alien marketplace that begun to gather here on Earth. Her gaze fell on a toy robot that was more humanoid than what she has seen in the past. Wide-rimmed, circular glasses framed his childlike face. She clicked back to the sea of items littered on the page. The easiest people to shop for, hands down, were Matt and her dad. The most difficult-

“What’s up, Lance?!” she confronted, not even bothering to face him.

“ _How_?! I was creeping up here like a shadow!”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the ultimate ninja master of stealth.” She pointed out dryly.

“Watcha doin’?” he began to settle next to her.

“Christmas shopping.”

“Noted.” He arched up and turned around to go back, which invited an even colder mass where he departed.

“Wait, don’t go.” She asked him sadly as she shrunk the webpage she was browsing.

“Hey, that doesn’t sound like a happy voice, Pidgey.”

“It isn’t. This is usually one of my favorite times of the year, and I feel like I’m just too old for it all.” She turned and met Lance’s soft scrutiny in his blue tinted gaze. “I mean, I know I’m not biologically _old_ or anything like that! It’s just…”

“Hey, I totally get it. Being a Paladin, defending the universe. That’ll do that to anyone!” He stretched his arms and sat down next to her, long legs dangling off the edge. She noticed him hugging his chest slightly, rubbing his arms rapidly. “Honestly, all of us have perpetually aged a billion years, did you know that I actually found a grey hair this morning? A gray hair! I thought I wasn’t gonna have to deal with that for another 20 years! 30 if I’m lucky!”

“If you _live_ that long.” The words rolled from her tongue and it surprised her. She tucked her knees in and hugged them. Just one more thing to come from her smart mouth this year. “I’m sorry.”

But Lance had a somber look on his face, as if she pressed a cool-down switch on his overactive brain. He still managed to form a mild smile.

“You’re right. We don’t know what the next phase of life is gonna bring.” He put on a pensive frown, tone reticent. “Which is why we have to enjoy every single precious thing we have right here, right _now_. Life’s still a gift, no matter how messy or heavy it gets. And it can be happy and _amazing_ all over again! Maybe _that’s_ what we’re really fighting so hard to protect!”

“I” Pidge breathing became shallow and fragmented. No! Crying was not something she normally did, especially not that…that… _whatever_ it was that just came from the Blue Paladin’s mouth. Lance must have been surprised as she suddenly lunged forth and hugged his waist.

“That was beautiful, Lance.” She told him, genuinely.

“Thought I’d try to speak from the heart this time.” He said sympathetically.

A pregnant pause remained between the two of them, during which Pidge yanked herself away the first 5 ticks and straightened her glasses. During the remaining 15 ticks or so, an idea developed in Pidge’s mischievous psyche. “I think I’ll call Hunk and the gang for a snowball ambush!

Lance bit his lips, trying not to laugh from the dissipating seriousness of the moment. “Don’t think we’re all kinda _old_ for that?”

“Like you reminded me, us Paladins should be living to the fullest, indulging in our inner child for a while.” She gathered her keyboard and blanket, rushing happily to the door. So…are you on my team?”

“Count me in!”

“Besides, you’re, like, the largest child I know.”

“Hey!”

They both walked inside, door shutting behind them.


	6. The Thread That Unites Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snowball fight! And a surprise from Coran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending this story was a little tricky. I had already been writing for 5 days straight, and did not want to just "straight up" rush the last scene.

One group text from Lance later, Hunk, Keith, and Shiro came to an open field. They were out of their Garrison uniforms and wearing their warmest street wear.

“Why couldn’t we continue this in the briefing room, you know, where _coffee_ or _cocoa_ exists?” the yellow paladin fit his scarf more snugly to his neck.

“This is definitely some weirdness.” Shiro added, scanning the field with a lost look on his face.

“Leave it to Lance to be unorthodox.” The red paladin huffed out an icy sigh, folding his arms curiously. A gasp erupted from his throat after being pelted by a large ball of snow. “Who?!” He cried with a fist balled up, demanding to know who he was going to have to attack.

Meanwhile, Hunk immediately hid behind Shiro, who was backing up like he wanted to run away. A renegade ball smashed the taller man straight in the face, and he struggled to get to an advantage point thanks to Hunk constantly holding on to the back of his arms.

“Hunk! This is _not_ going to work!” Shiro pleaded while blocking additional flying ice balls with his floating arm.

“We’ve been ambushed! We’re wide open!”

“So?! We fight back!” Keith jolted into his leader stance, upright and ready to fight. “Follow my lead!”, he screamed, which invited a short period of inactivity, followed by loud snickers and snorts from both Pidge and Lance.

“You are _all_ ridiculous!” Pidge swung from a tree branch and landed on her feet with her knees bent. She smudged tears of laughter from her face, still wheezing.

Lance came from behind a large tree trunk, holding his stomach and wheezing. “Geez, take it easy, Keith! It’s just a harmless snowball fight!” Honestly, if Pidge and Lance had been little kids, they would have been _terrified_ by Keith’s intensity.

“Keith, you did get a little _too_ passionate.” Shiro pointed out casually.

“The way you were revved up, I thought we were about to bring our lions into this!” Hunk joked.

“Leave me alone.” The red paladin uttered sheepishly under his breath with a pout, relaxing his fighter’s stance to appear more closed in and timid with his head hanging down.

Lance stepped forward, knocking his hands together in a “time out” gesture. “Okay, what do you say we start over? And this time we _all_ remember that this is just about having fun-“ Before he could finish, everyone supplied a flurry of snow bullets at him and Pidge. “Ah, come on!”

It was an unspoken rule that Lance and Pidge were the targets of vengeance. Hunk was once again using Shiro as a human shield. Shiro found himself running relentlessly after Pidge and Lance, who were both too short and too tall for him to catch them as easy targets. Keith would fling snowballs like they were grenades until each impact of snow exploded on Hunk, who was an unlucky casualty of Lance’s stealth. But Hunk fired back by throwing two at a time. Lance managed to hit Keith with several more mostly because of tunnel vision.

The fight continued past sunset, well into the early evening hours. Eventually, each paladin was sprawled out in the same general area, faces ruddy and scraped from the vigorous fight.

‘No more! I’ve had enough.” Hunk pleaded.

‘Hadn’t had fun like _this_ in years.” Keith managed an exhausted, yet satisfied laugh.

“Tellin’ my future offspring about this.” Lance added with a scoff.

“You okay, Shiro?” Pidge teased.

“Never better.” He smiled, finally raising up from the ground. As he looked towards the city, his pupils shrunk with his mouth dropping open in suspension.

Olkari’s, Balmerians, and Arusians. All observing and staring in amazement, some in unconcealable amusement.

Keith wore a worried look at first but smiled warmly. “Looks like we have an audience, everyone.” The other Paladins followed Shiro’s gaze and rose to their feet.

“May we join you? One of the Balmerans asked.

They received a chorus of lethargic objections from the exhausted Paladins. But Shay came forth and simply clarified that they wanted to join them in the snow and create snowmen, snow angels, anything. They changed their tune with a different chorus of agreement.

A giant echo of a lion’s roar shook the area, soon followed by the roar of 4 more. Everyone on the field followed the vibration to find Allura and Coran standing in front of the giant lion sentinels. Each lions’ bodies were draped in large cords of Christmas bulbs. their heads fitted perfectly with giant Santa hats.

“We’re all seeing the same thing, right? Santa’s little-I mean, giant helpers!’ Hunk cried.

“Awww! This is absolutely totes adorable!” Lance whined, after searching his pocket for his very mint conditioned phone and beginning to record a video.

Pidge waved her arms around in exasperation. “Allura! How much time did you guy have on your hands? I mean, seriously? Those hats should each have taken at least half a year to knit!”

“Well…Go on, Coran!” Allura nudged the older Altean with her shoulder.

“Sorry, Pidge, no can do! Coran-claus never reveals his secrets!” the man twisted his mustache and arched his back in pride.

“You think they’re okay with being dressed up like this?” Shiro wondered while unable to move their eyes from the lions.

“Something in my gut tells me that they’re _perfectly_ fine with it.” Keith assured him.

And Hunk gave a “thumbs-up” to Coran, realizing the unity that the smallest gesture could bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for giving this fic a read, and I genuinely hoped that you enjoyed this Christmas special. :D


End file.
